


Future Perfect

by Fox



Series: Future Perfect [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-27
Updated: 2000-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox/pseuds/Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series looking at Episode One from behind the scenes. What happened in all those screen wipes and quick cuts? Your friendly neighborhood Fox tries to smooth out the editing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> I am not now, nor have I ever been, George Lucas.

"Here, Master. Tatooine. It's small, out of the way, poor -- the Trade Federation have no presence there." Obi-Wan Kenobi pointed to his viewscreen, which displayed the data for the small world to which he referred. Out of the way, indeed. He wondered if they could possibly be further from the center of the galaxy.

"How can you be sure?" Captain Panaka was suspicious.

"It's controlled by the Hutts," Qui-Gon Jinn replied, reading over his padawan's shoulder.

"You can't take Her Royal Highness there! The Hutts are gangsters! If they discovered her --"

"It would be no different than if we landed on a system controlled by the Federation," Qui-Gon answered, straightening up. "Except the Hutts aren't looking for her -- which gives us the advantage."

"Master," said Obi-Wan, rising from his seat at the terminal and following Qui-Gon out of the cockpit, "the captain is right. The Hutts are dangerous and untrustworthy."

Qui-Gon smiled indulgently. "With the Force as our ally --"

"The Force can't always help us," Obi-Wan persisted. "The Hutts control huge transgalactic spice cartels, Master. Hardly the weak-minded sort you're always saying the Force affects most powerfully."

Reaching his cabin, Qui-Gon palmed the door open and turned to his apprentice. "There is no choice in the matter, Obi-Wan. The Federation is indeed weak-minded, but also strong-armed. We needn't worry about the Hutts until it is necessary to do so." His frustration evaporated when he saw the genuine concern in the younger man's eyes. "What is it you want me to do, Padawan?" he asked softly, tracing the line of the fine-boned jaw with a fingertip. "We'll never make it to Coruscant if we don't stop now and fix the ship. A Jedi is confident, but not foolish. Nothing can be gained by stopping on a Federation world."

"I know that, Master," Obi-Wan said, his eyes closing as he leaned reluctantly into the touch. He knew he was being distracted, and tried to resist it. "But the danger -- "

"I shall be careful," Qui-Gon assured him.

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. "You?"

"Who else?"

"You're going? Alone?"

Qui-Gon sighed and stepped into the cabin, pulling Obi-Wan through the door after him. Tension was visible in the apprentice's slender frame, and palpable in the Force around him. "Master, you know I don't usually have gut feelings about the future. But I have one now."

Qui-Gon knew it was difficult for Obi-Wan, so strong in the Force but not given to precognition, to interpret his rare glimpses of the future. Master Yoda had tried to teach him, to augment Qui-Gon's own training and round out Obi-Wan's skills, but knowledge of the future was a talent Obi-Wan simply did not possess as much as some others. When he did feel something, with that curious bone-deep tingle that all trained Jedi knew accompanied a vision, he struggled to make sense of it and incorporate it into his true element: awareness of the moment. Qui-Gon wished Master Yoda -- Yoda, who could not only effortlessly interpret his visions of the future, but actually calm his mind enough to cause them to come to him -- hadn't been so visibly disappointed with Obi-Wan's limited success in this area. After all, he reasoned, beings with webbed hands and feet were naturally better swimmers than beings without; but they didn't do so well at climbing sheer rock-faces.

He would have liked nothing better than to draw the young man into his arms, to reassure him with soothing words whispered into his ear, to knead the knotted muscles until they were soft and pliant under his palms. But it was wiser and more fair to convince him of the soundness of his argument, rather than trick him into not worrying about it, into focusing his mind on -- other things.

"I've decided to go instead of you because I am the senior negotiator and have, at a conservative estimate, thirty-five years more experience in the field. Not to mention that your braid would certainly give you away immediately. And I've decided to go without you because it's best not to leave either front unguarded." He handed his padawan a mug of tea. "What if we were both in the town and the ship was discovered? One of us -- you, in this case -- needs to be here to keep an eye on the queen and her retinue."

"Master," Obi-Wan began. "I know you're right, but I wish there were another way." He shook his head and put his teacup to one side, reaching for Qui-Gon's hand. The master took it. "Besides being careful," he said, looking up with big blue-green eyes -- Qui-Gon's heart skipped -- and twisting his fingers into the older man's, "you will call us if you need us -- need me -- won't you?"

"Obi," Qui-Gon groaned, as in one fluid motion he slid his hand behind the other man's head and covered his mouth in a possessive kiss.

Obi-Wan was ready for him. No sooner had their lips met than the younger man was returning the kiss with equal intensity, his mouth opening wide, his tongue dueling with Qui-Gon's, his back refusing to arch as Qui-Gon tried to bend him over the chair. One hand tangled in the long, soft hair, the other fisted in the front of the older man's tunics as Obi-Wan fairly climbed his master's body and clung to him with an almost desperate fervor. The hesitant, uncertain padawan of the early days of their romantic relationship was gone; the elusive unease that had been at the back of his mind since the Federation flagship was plainly manifesting itself in his worry about Tatooine.

It was Qui-Gon who broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Obi-Wan's as they both drew shuddering breaths through open mouths. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Master," Obi-Wan whispered, his voice tight and his eyes shut.

"You would be strong and continue, just as I would do without you, Padawan," Qui-Gon murmured. "But no matter. Keep your mind on the here and now. We shall make planetfall in just a few hours. Enough time to meditate and decide on a plan of action for this little excursion of mine."

"Yes, Master." Stealing one more soft kiss, Obi-Wan turned back to his abandoned tea, apparently placated -- for the moment. "Hmm," he said, a thought coming to him in mid-sip. "I understand your not taking me with you, Master, but must you go alone? There are plenty of people aboard the ship who would gladly --"

"A chaperone, Obi-Wan?" the master said, suppressing a smile. "Who did you have in mind?" The smirk on his apprentice's face told him two things: that Obi-Wan had gotten a handle on his fear, and that he knew exactly who should accompany Qui-Gon into the city. "Not very charitable," he scolded mildly.

"Come on, Master, it's only fair. It's because of you that Jar Jar is with us in the first place. You know he'll do nothing but complain and get in the way if he's left here, and that's a headache the crew could do without while they're trying to repair what they can. _And_ that way we won't be completely cut off, in case -- in case something happens to you."

"_Nothing is going to happen to me_," Qui-Gon insisted. "But very well, Obi-Wan. I'll take Jar Jar with me, as a favor to you."

"Thank you, Master."

"You're lucky I love you so much."

"Yes, Master."

They meditated, searching their minds for direction on both the Tatooine and Coruscant phases of their mission. Afterwards they took a meal in silence, Qui-Gon acutely aware of both Obi-Wan's distress and his unwillingness to discuss it. They informed Amidala, Panaka and the crew that Qui-Gon and Jar Jar would go into the settlement when they landed, with the rest remaining with the ship; then Qui-Gon retreated to sleep as much as possible before they landed, at what to the settlement on Tatooine would be early afternoon. Obi-Wan followed him back to his cabin and curled up next to him in the bunk. They did not make love, but simply held each other close, both conscious of the fact that this mission was turning out to be a good deal more than they had bargained for.

When Qui-Gon woke at the appointed hour -- early morning, ship's time, but midday at the settlement where they landed -- Obi-Wan was gone. Stretching out with his senses, the master found his padawan busy helping the crew with the core of the ship, resolutely decided not thinking about his premonition. Other than informing him that the hyperdrive would need to be entirely replaced and accepting an instruction that no transmissions be sent from the crippled ship, Obi-Wan spoke little. With a sigh, Qui-Gon set off to find Jar Jar, and the two left the ship to make their way into the city.

* * *

Qui-Gon and the Gungan had been gone most of three standard hours when Obi-Wan emerged from the guts of the ship. The captain was dozing in the cockpit, with some of the crew playing cards nearby. Obi-Wan wandered back into the passenger area and found the young Queen, as always dressed in her finery, reading a book -- an actual paper volume, not a datascreen. He cleared his throat, and the girl looked up at him. "Your Highness?" he said, for the benefit of anyone who might hear.

"No, it's no problem," she said, nodding to the other handmaidens in the room. "They all know about the Padme thing, and the crew can't hear us from here."

"Then it all came off all right?"

"Just as we planned. Panaka told the Jedi that the Queen wished her handmaiden to see the settlement, that she was curious about the people." She shrugged. "And he came back on the ship by himself. So 'Dala -- _Padme_, that is -- is with your master and that Gungan. They've probably reached the city by now."

"Thanks." Obi-Wan squeezed the not-Queen's hand. "I'll think of a way to make it up to you."

"It's not a big deal, Obi-Wan," she said with a smile. "One less person to get cabin fever. I hope they're not gone long."

Obi-Wan's commlink chirped. "Speak of the Sith," he grinned. "Excuse me. Kenobi," he said, stepping to one side.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice said.

"What's happened, Master?"

"Nothing serious. The only dealer I've found who has the parts we need won't accept Republic credits."

"That sounds fairly serious to me, Master."

"'Something more real,' he says. Have we anything that could be traded?"

"Hardly. Let me look. He couldn't be -- ah, convinced?"

"Couldn't be influenced by the Force, no. Are you're sure there's nothing of value left on board?"

"A few containers of supplies," Obi-Wan reported. "The queen's wardrobe, maybe, but not enough for you to barter with. Not in the amounts you're talking about."

"All right," the master conceded. "I'm sure another solution will present itself. I'll check back later." The channel clicked off. [[And I love you,]] he felt the man add, a quick mental caress that only he could perceive.

[[Love you, too, Master,]] he answered.

"Jedi Kenobi!" Panaka's voice was urgent. Running, Obi-Wan reached the main communication center just in time to see the beginning of a holo transmission from the Naboo governor. The girl who was not the queen was there, as were several crewmen and the captain himself. "Your Highness," the governor had begun. Obi-Wan took a seat. "In the short time since your departure the Trade Federation has overrun the city of Theed. They have taken over the palace and imprisoned most of the local government. The people are fleeing to the hills. Those who are unfortunate enough to be caught in active resistance have been tortured, and in at least two cases, summarily executed." Bibble's image glanced over both shoulders, as though he were recording the transmission in secret. "The main frequencies are all monitored, of course," he said, "but if you respond directly to this transmission we can arrange a plan of action to appease these invaders. We must bow to their wishes," he concluded. "You must contact me."

Obi-Wan stood and looked around at the assembled crewmen and handmaidens. "Send no response," he said, reminding them of Qui-Gon's directive. "Send no transmissions of any kind." He stalked from the bridge and back to his cabin to meditate.

Unable to focus, he finally switched on his commlink and paged his master. He had to hit the call button several times before getting an answer. "Jinn," he heard.

"Master," he said, relieved.

"What is it, Obi-Wan?"

"I called and called and got no response. I thought something had happened to you."

"We were caught in the sandstorm. Didn't you have harsh winds out there?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, relaxing marginally. "Must be that you just didn't hear the signal."

"Probably. But we're safe now -- the junk dealer owns a boy who offered us shelter in his home. We're about to sit down to the evening meal with him and his mother." His voice was calm and soothing, but Obi-Wan couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right. "But that's not why you were calling me."

"A message from the Naboo, Master. The governor tells of horrors perpetrated on his people by the Federation. He begs the Queen to contact him and authorize submission to the conquerors." He paused. "I've instructed them not to respond."

"I think that's wise. It sounds like bait to establish a connection trace."

"But what if it is true, and the people are dying?" Obi-Wan wasn't sure which was worse; to live under tyranny, or to die resisting it.

"Either way, we're running out of time." [[And I love you,]] he added, as he clicked his transmitter off.

[[Love you, too, Master,]] Obi-Wan answered, distracted. He tried again to meditate, and soon slipped into a contemplative trance. He could not know how much time had passed before it happened again: the vision was coming back to him. He quieted his mind and let it appear; it was just resolving itself into something he could actually see when he was startled from his calm by the chirp of his commlink.

"Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan, I've thought of a plan. It may be our only hope. I've made a wager with the junk-dealer that his boy can win the pod-race tomorrow."

"Pod-racing, Master? I thought you said this was a human child?"

"He is, but he's done it before. Raced, that is. He's quick, and he's built a good pod, and if my feelings are right, he should win with no trouble. We'll have the drive there by midday, so make sure everything else is ready."

"What if this plan fails, Master?" He hated to sound doubtful, but it was a risky proposition. "We could be stuck here a very long time."

"Well, we can't call for help. And a ship without a power supply isn't going to get us anywhere. And there's something about this boy ..." His master's voice trailed off, pensively. [[And I love you.]]

Obi-Wan smiled. [[Love you, too, Master.]]

It was after nightfall -- though the ship's personnel had decided to remain on ship's time, even while in dock, so to them it was just past midday -- when Obi-Wan's commlink chirped again. "Kenobi," he mumbled, stirring out of a fitful doze.

"Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon again.

"Yes, Master."

"I need you to make an analysis of this blood sample I'm sending you."

"Wait a minute ..." the young man dragged himself to a sitting position before the computer in the ship's medical bay.

"I need a midichlorian count."

Obi-Wan waited for the raw data to come in to his link, then fed it into the computer for analysis. What he saw made him rub his eyes to make sure he was reading it correctly. "The reading is off the charts," he told Qui-Gon. "Over twenty thousand. Even Master Yoda doesn't have a midichlorian count that high."

"No Jedi has," Qui-Gon mused.

"What does that mean?" What had he found?

"I'm not sure," Qui-Gon admitted. There was a long moment of silence, and Obi-Wan was about to ask his master if everything was all right, when he heard the click that told him Qui-Gon had switched off his commlink. [[And I love you.]]

[[Love you, too, Master.]]

[[Sleep, love. All will be well.]]

Obi-Wan didn't need to be told twice. He was back in his bunk and asleep again in moments.

* * *

After the race, Qui-Gon determined it was wisest to get the new hyperdrive to the ship as soon as possible and then go back for Anakin. He rode to the outskirts, depositing the handmaiden Padme and Jar Jar Binks back on the ship, and told Obi-Wan that he must return to the city once more -- but not to stay. "Why do I get the feeling that we've picked up another pathetic life form," the young man said, in more of a statement than a question.

"It's the boy who's responsible for getting us these parts," Qui-Gon admonished him. "Now get this hyperdrive installed."

"Yes, Master. It shouldn't take long."

Riding back to Mos Espa, Qui-Gon mused on Obi-Wan's premonition. Nothing remotely untoward had befallen him while he was in the city -- the unexpected sandstorm wasn't dangerous enough to warrant such a troubling vision -- and yet Obi-Wan remained anxious. Whatever had been troubling him was still doing so, and he had still not told his master any details.

Qui-Gon left his mount at Watto's junk shop, and walked for the last time to the Skywalker hut. It pained him to tell Anakin that he was free while his mother was not, but he could tell that Shmi was not surprised by this news. He was impressed by her strength of heart as she embraced her son and turned him over to the Jedi Master, and as they began the walk back to the ship Qui-Gon belatedly -- and futilely, he realized -- wondered if she herself might be Force-sensitive. He hadn't picked up any vibrations from her specifically, but Anakin's presence was overwhelming in the general Force-void that was Tatooine; it was possible the boy's Force signature could easily have eclipsed his mother's.

As the pair entered the barren desert, Qui-Gon's warning sense abruptly twitched -- and in a blur of motion he drew his lightsaber, slicing down the small droid he hadn't known was there, but which his instincts had told him was a threat. He examined the pieces with a sense of dread tickling the back of his neck. "Quickly, Anakin," he said. "We've got to get back to the ship now." He broke into a run, the boy right behind him.

They ran for a long time. At last the ship was in sight, and Qui-Gon again felt a flutter in the Force that told him danger was very near. He heard the boy call to him. "Qui-Gon, sir, wait, I'm tired!"

The master turned -- and saw an unfathomable creature on an out-of-control speeder zooming up behind him. "Anakin!" he cried. "Drop!"

Without thinking, the boy obeyed. As he hit the sand, the creature sped past where his head had been, leaping from its speeder and igniting a long-handled red lightsaber as the vehicle sped away. Qui-Gon's own green-bladed weapon was in his hand again in an instant. "Get to the ship!" he barked at Anakin, who scrambled to his feet and resumed running. "Tell them to take off!" Then the creature was upon him.

Its face was striped in red and black. Ugly yellow-brown horns protruded from its skull. It was shrouded in a heavy cloak, blacker than black, but it moved with as much grace and agility as the nimblest Jedi. Its glowing red blade came swinging at Qui-Gon, who parried and feinted and dodged away from the next attack. Although he had been unprepared for this battle, he had the advantage of size over the creature, and its strategy seemed to be to hack and slash and try to move faster than its opponent could keep up. Qui-Gon risked a glance over his shoulder, and saw the ship lifting and coming toward him, ramp still extended. He looked back at his bewildering attacker, then called on the Force and jumped away from a swipe that would have cost him his left arm. He landed on the ramp with both feet, and as the ship lifted away from the desert he switched off his lightsaber and collapsed, spent, onto the deck.

Obi-Wan was at his side in an instant, with Anakin on his heels. "What was it?" his young lover asked. The concern was etched on his face -- You see, he seemed to be saying, I knew something terrible would happen.

"I don't know," Qui-Gon admitted, "but it was trained in the Jedi arts." [[No harm done, love,]] he tried to reassure Obi-Wan.

[[Speak for yourself,]] Obi-Wan's mental presence snapped.

"What are we going to do now?" Anakin's young voice piped up.

Both men turned to look at him. "We must be patient," Qui-Gon said with an out-of-breath smile. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"You're a Jedi, too?" the boy asked the apprentice. "Pleased to meet you." He extended his hand, and Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan shove his fear to the back of his mind as he grinned and shook hands with the child.

"Right," Qui-Gon said as Obi-Wan helped him get to his feet. "Next stop, Coruscant."

"Can I go look around the ship some, Qui-Gon, sir?" Anakin asked, hopping excitedly from one foot to the other. "Please?"

"Yes you may, Ani," Qui-Gon said, "but be sure to do exactly as the captain tells you. I'll be in my cabin resting, if you need me."

The boy scurried away happily, and Qui-Gon turned his attention to his apprentice, who hadn't spoken since asking him what the thing with the lightsaber had been. "Obi-Wan, what is it?"

"Get you to your cabin," the younger man muttered, bearing most of his master's weight on his shoulder. "Need to rest."

"Is it still there? Your sense of danger?" Qui-Gon asked as they walked. "I'm here, and I'm safe -- nothing happened to me, just as I said. What is it?" Obi-Wan placed him in his bunk and turned to go. "Tell me, Obi."

"Master," the apprentice said, stopping but not turning to face him.

Qui-Gon propped himself up on his elbows. "Was that -- that thing -- what you saw?" Obi-Wan turned, and in his eyes Qui-Gon saw more than just the fear and anger that he had almost been hurt; he saw pain as well. "What, love?"

"Master, where did you sleep last night?"

Dismayed, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed. "You wouldn't ask if you didn't already know."

"Why?!" The young man's single word was a choked sob. "You tell me you love me, that I should sleep and all will be well, and then you --"

"It was my only option, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said calmly, reaching for his padawan's hand. Obi-Wan jerked away as if he had been burned. "It was a very small house. I had already lain down to sleep on the floor, but she offered me her bed. I was planning to take her son away; the least I could do was accept her hospitality --"

"Hospitality!" Obi-Wan struggled to contain his rage.

"Accept her hospitality," Qui-Gon persisted, "and grant her the comfort of a bedmate in return. I told her that my heart and my life and my self belonged to another, to you, and I took no personal pleasure in sharing her bed -- "

"I can _smell_ her on you!" the young man exploded.

Qui-Gon sighed again. "Her scent clings to my clothes, yes. But I promise you, love, that -- what you're thinking -- did _not_ happen." He closed his eyes and lay back against his pillows to rest. "And you would have done the same."

"Never."

"You would, Padawan, though you would not have enjoyed it any more than I did. My every spare thought has been of you, since I woke yesterday morning and you were not in my arms."

It was several long minutes later that Qui-Gon heard the ragged breaths that told him his padawan was struggling not to weep. "What else is troubling you, Obi-Wan?" He opened his eyes and turned his head, and saw Obi-Wan seated on the floor next to his bed, legs crossed, head in his hands.

"It's still there, Master. The vision." He paused, but Qui-Gon did not speak, waiting for Obi-Wan to unburden himself of his fears of his own volition. "I can feel that something is going to take you away from me, and soon. When I saw that creature I thought it would defeat you, but when you jumped into the ship I was sure you'd won, you'd outsmarted my precognition. And then I could tell you'd been with that woman." He shuddered, and held a hand up against Qui-Gon's interruption. "And I thought you'd leave me. But you tell me you did not -- that you merely shared her bed, but did not warm it, and I was sure you'd done it again." His shoulders shook. "But it's still there, this nagging feeling. I can't make sense of it, and I can't be rid of it." Qui-Gon reached out his hand, and this time the younger man took it and looked up into his eyes. "I am trying not to be afraid, Master, but it's not easy."

Qui-Gon saw the wordless plea in those eyes and tugged gently at his lover's hand. Accepting the invitation, Obi-Wan climbed on to the bunk and on to the man in it, pressing his lean young body into the length of Qui-Gon's own. He planted one knee on either side of the older man's hips and leaned forward, taking the bearded face in both hands for a kiss. Qui-Gon had expected to be required to hold the young man and comfort him, and was caught unawares by his sudden ardor; leaving his lips, Obi-Wan's mouth and hands were everywhere, constantly reassuring himself of his lover's presence, claiming him for his own, clinging to him like a drowning man. Or as one would cling to a drowning man, Qui-Gon reflected between kisses. He did not resist as Obi-Wan relieved him of his civilian clothing, flinging it across the room rather than folding it neatly as was his usual manner. _It still smells like Shmi_, he remembered. Normally he would have flipped the other man and methodically removed his clothes as well, slower than Obi-Wan wanted, tormenting him with his drawing-out, delaying what they both hungered for. But right now Obi-Wan was the aggressor, nails raking Qui-Gon's skin, teeth fastening to his neck, occasionally remembering to pull off one article or another of his own clothing as well. Qui-Gon soothed the younger man with murmured words of love, hands smoothed over his skin and hair, gentle kisses pressed to whatever bit of Obi-Wan was convenient from one moment to the next. Obi-Wan was not satisfied to feel all of Qui-Gon under his hands, and dragged his tongue over the larger man's neck, shoulders, chest, tasting every inch of the warm, sweat-sheened body before scooting back and, with no preamble, swallowing Qui-Gon to the root.

Qui-Gon's back arched and he hit his head against the wall at the top of his bunk, but he didn't care. In that instant, his universe shrank until it included only him and the man holding him in his mouth. Obi-Wan's hands found his hips and stilled his motion, as the young man licked and sucked ruthlessly, sparing Qui-Gon not one moment to catch his breath before he shuddered and tensed and his control burst from his grasp like a spring coiled too tightly. Obi-Wan lapped and swallowed, catching what he could not drink of Qui-Gon's release in his hand and smearing it over his own swollen shaft. With a look and a growl, he instructed Qui-Gon to roll over. Lying on his belly, Qui-Gon felt the young man spread his legs roughly; stretch him hurriedly with one, two, three fingers; then plant his hands outside his lover's shoulders as he slid home in one smooth stroke.

They cried out, two men with one voice, and Obi-Wan immediately rolled onto his side, bringing Qui-Gon with him so that he could wrap an arm around the other man's body even as they moved together. It wasn't long before Obi-Wan spasmed and jerked and Qui-Gon felt his lover's pulse deep inside him.

* * *

Obi-Wan clung to Qui-Gon, needing in the depths of his soul to stay within him for as long as he physically could, crawling over him when he was no longer inside the larger man's body and wrapping himself in his lover's embrace. Their legs tangled together, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's lazy fingers stroking his spine, and he buried his face in Qui-Gon's neck as they both settled in to sleep. No, nothing could take his master from him. Not now.

**Author's Note:**

> As I recall, the discussion on MA around the end of 1999 had to do, among other things, with time. According to officially licensed guides and whatnot, the travel time between Coruscant and Naboo (and Tatooine, for that matter) is several weeks, but of course in the movie we see the takeoff and the landing and it's as if only a few hours have gone by. This is a persistent problem in Star Wars in general -- where does the time go? So I thought I'd try to address that a bit. Mali Wane, Terri Hamill, and the incomparable [name deleted] (who can no longer use the handle she was using at the time) were indispensable, giving me the title, multiple betas, and film dialogue, which at the time was tough to come by. Terri had a VCD or some such thing, with subtitles in something like Balinese; I relied on that once or twice, but mostly on my memory and theirs.
> 
> _Future Perfect_ was my first effort at slash, and approximately my second at fan fiction in general. (A friend and I began writing a gen SW novel in college; in high school, I wrote a paper on Tim O'Brien's _In the Lake of the Woods_ that I now realize falls under the heading of "reinterpretive fiction," like Grendel -- it tells the story of a secondary character from that character's point of view. Fan fiction, in its way.) I look at it now and ... well, I don't hate it, but I sure hate some of the choices I made in it. The epithets alone make me squirm.
> 
> _Past Conditional_ carries the thing through the end of the movie -- adhering to canon, I like to think, as much as possible (except for, you know, the slash thing). I see a difference in style already. _Present Progressive_ is my concession to the weepiness in fandom over the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, and an attempt at a solution to the problem of why Ben Kenobi and Yoda disappear when they die, while Qui-Gon Jinn and Darth Vader don't. It's got some stuff in it that I like a lot.


End file.
